


Talk Fratty to me

by Anonymous



Category: Glee
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 12:00:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6115786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>
  <strong>Prompt:</strong>
</p><p>AU in which Kurt & Blaine attend NYU - but they've never met, until now. Blaine is a talented musician and is living as a brother in a frathouse. Kurt is trying to get a coveted fashion internship, when they tell him that they're looking for someone who can assist with new season's line - fratboy chic - in a few months. </p><p>Kurt HAS to land this internship, so he pledges to Blaine's frat to get inspiration. And here, they meet for the first time.</p><p>Would love:<br/>- Kurt is uber neat, well-dressed and definitely not excited to live in a frat.<br/>- Blaine is fratty - but has good style and is well-groomed...combination of both. But he's definitely your stereotypical frat guy, who loves to party, get laid and have a good time.<br/>- They are roommates.<br/>- Parties, where they get wasted. Because, duh, college!<br/>- Kurt is attracted to Blaine immediately, but he doesn't want to let on.<br/>- Blaine's kind of a player, so he flirts with Kurt...and many other guys. Lots of sexual tension and crossing boundaries. Which leaves Kurt confused.<br/>- Their other frat buddies constantly remark on the obvious sexual tension/chemistry.<br/>- They start hooking up - any number of ways, leading up to anal.<br/>- Prefer total top!Blaine.<br/>- Would love them to end up in a relationship, but up to author.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Talk Fratty to me

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [GleePromptMeme](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/GleePromptMeme) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> AU in which Kurt & Blaine attend NYU - but they've never met, until now. Blaine is a talented musician and is living as a brother in a frathouse. Kurt is trying to get a coveted fashion internship, when they tell him that they're looking for someone who can assist with new season's line - fratboy chic - in a few months. 
> 
> Kurt HAS to land this internship, so he pledges to Blaine's frat to get inspiration. And here, they meet for the first time.
> 
> Would love:  
> \- Kurt is uber neat, well-dressed and definitely not excited to live in a frat.  
> \- Blaine is fratty - but has good style and is well-groomed...combination of both. But he's definitely your stereotypical frat guy, who loves to party, get laid and have a good time.  
> \- They are roommates.  
> \- Parties, where they get wasted. Because, duh, college!  
> \- Kurt is attracted to Blaine immediately, but he doesn't want to let on.  
> \- Blaine's kind of a player, so he flirts with Kurt...and many other guys. Lots of sexual tension and crossing boundaries. Which leaves Kurt confused.  
> \- Their other frat buddies constantly remark on the obvious sexual tension/chemistry.  
> \- They start hooking up - any number of ways, leading up to anal.  
> \- Prefer total top!Blaine.  
> \- Would love them to end up in a relationship, but up to author.

Kurt takes a deep breath as he gazes out at the skyline he’d missed so much over the summer. Choosing to intern with a small designer running a boutique in Lima had been an easy decision, both his father’s health scare and his own homesickness pulling him towards his hometown; but now, standing in a rooftop garden, he’s excited to be back in the city he’s meant to call home.   
“Sweetheart!” comes the pleased chirp seconds before Kurt feels a hand land on the small of his back.  
“Isabelle!” Kurt says happily when he sees his advisor standing by his side.   
“Have you been here long? You should have let me know you’d arrive,” she chides playfully. “It makes me feel like a bad host when I don’t realize the guest I’ve been waiting for has finally arrived.”  
A grin makes its way across Kurt’s face; Isabelle’s happy go lucky personality and her tendency to be generous with her praise are infectious. “I just got here,” Kurt tells her. “I haven’t even had a chance to grab a drink yet.”  
She slides her arm into the crook of Kurt’s elbow. “I know I should probably steer you towards the refreshing raspberry spritzer I made since I know you’re still not 21, but I think you’ll enjoy the sangria I made a bit more.”  
“I’ve never met a sangria I didn’t like,” Kurt tells her, smiling as she leads him towards the bar.   
“How was your internship this summer?” she asks as she pours him a glass.   
“Good, good. I designed the dresses for a wedding party with 10 bridesmaids.”  
Isabelle laughs. “Complementing or matching?”   
“Complementing,” Kurt answers with a shudder, but smiling when Isabelle laughs.   
“It’ll be good practice for when you’re working on larger collections,” she tells him, always one to point out the silver lining. “Which is actually something I wanted to talk to you about.”  
“Oh?”  
Isabelle glances around nervously, like she doesn’t want them to be over heard. Kurt has to bite down on a laugh; it was only through fate that he found her and convinced NYU to let her serve as his advisor, and he’s the only student in any capacity at her party. “You know you’ll need at least another internship in order to graduate, right?”  
Kurt nods. “I’ve been looking for slots opening up in the spring.”  
“And you know the better the internship, the better your post graduate options will be.” Kurt nods. “Well, I want to introduce you to one of my friends before you leave tonight. He works for Tom Ford, and I think he’d be able to help you get your foot in the door.”  
Kurt nearly chokes on a mouthful of sangria. “Isabelle, thank you. That would be fantastic. Thank you.”  
Isabelle grins, reaching out to give his shoulder a squeeze. “Of course. His name is Lyndon, and he’s not here yet. But in the meantime, have some fun. Schmooze. Network with all the socialites that would love to meet an up and coming designer.”  
A laugh bubbles out of Kurt’s mouth. “You’re really the best, you know.”  
“I know,” she agrees before pressing a kiss to his cheek and floating away, leaving Kurt behind in a cloud of her floral perfume.   
Shaking his head, Kurt refills his glass.   
“You have got to tell me where you found that shirt,” a petite redhead says, reaching out to examine the sleeve. “I’ve been trying to find something just like that for my boyfriend.”  
With a smile, Kurt tells her about the boutique he found over in State Island.  
A few glasses of sangria later, the sky is fading to a dusty pink and Kurt spots Isabelle waving him over.  
“Lyndon, this is Kurt Hummel. He’s currently studying fashion at NYU. Kurt, this is Lyndon. He’s a senior design editor at Tom Ford,” Isabelle introduces.  
“It’s nice to meet you,” Kurt says, shaking his hand.   
“The pleasure is mine,” he responds. “I have to say, Isabelle showed me some of your work and I was very impressed.”  
Kurt manages to prevent himself from squealing, but doesn’t quite manage to stop himself from preening. “Really?”  
Lyndon laughs. “Really. I think you’d be a great fit with our team. Would you be interesting in applying for an internship with us?”   
“Absolutely!”  
“I know we’re doing some outreach at Parsons in a few weeks, and I probably shouldn’t be giving you too much information before that, but…” he trails off. “We’re looking to choose a group of 3 to 5 interns by Thanksgiving, with an internship start date in early January. Ideally, we want interns to stay with us for 6 to 9 months, with the opportunity to extend that into a year if they perform well above expectations.”  
“That would be amazing,” Kurt breathes out; a year from January, he’ll be 5 months away from graduating and looking for a full time job.   
“I will tell you right now though that we’re going to be looking for someone who brings a very specific design aesthetic,” Lyndon warns.   
“Of course,” Kurt agrees.   
“Well, it’s, I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but I’m sure the Parsons students will be given the same information. The line we’ll be working on is frat boy-chic inspired.”  
Kurt wants to laugh. The frat boys he knows dress in ill fitting jeans and polo shirts in bright secondary colors, with the occasional Gap fleece zip up thrown in if the weather calls for it. He doesn’t even know how to dress that up. He’s…  
“I know it not exactly what we’re known for, and it’s probably not something a lot of our potential interns have in their wheelhouses. But if an applicant were able to showcase that kind of vibe in their application portfolio, it would certainly give them a leg up.”  
“Of course,” Kurt says. “Well, thank you for your insight.”  
Lyndon grins at him. “Let me give you my card. If you want me to give you some feedback on your designs, or anything, let me know.”  
Kurt slides the card into his pocket, the gears in his head already working overtime. 

**  
“You’re kidding, right?” Mercedes asks, one eyebrow arched high, when Kurt fills her in on his plan.   
“I think I have to,” Kurt tells her, picking at his bagel.   
“Kurt, you lived in my spare room for, what, 8 months?” she asks, shaking her head when he nods in response. “I love living with you. I love our weekend brunches on the terrace,” she says, gesturing to the spread of goodies on the table and the pitcher of mimosas. “And you love living here. You love not having to clean Rachel’s hair out of the bathroom sink and having enough space for all your things in the closet.”  
“I do,” Kurt agrees. “But this internship could literally make my career, ‘Cedes. It’s not like I want to live in a frat house, but the sacrifice it’s bound to be would be worth it for this chance.”  
Mercedes drains the rest of her mimosa, refilling her glass slowly. “Where are you going to pledge?”  
“I don’t even know,” Kurt admits. “I spent so much time trying to avoid all of the frat boys that I’m not even sure where to start.”  
“Well,” she starts. “I…you know that blonde guy that I was hooking up with in the spring? Sam?”  
“The one with the abs?” Kurt definitely remembers him.   
“Yes, that one,” Mercedes agrees with a flush. “Well, I hung out with him some over the summer and he’s in a frat. If I remember right, there’s a few gay guys in the frat, and living in the house, and one of his brothers is a music major, so I’m sure it’s probably more progressive that some of the other frats out there?”  
“Can you get me his number?”  
“I can do you one better,” she replies with a smile. “Wanna go to a frat party tonight?”

 

The house isn’t as bad as Kurt expects. By no means is it somewhere that Kurt would choose to live if he didn’t have to, but it’s certainly not unlivable. There is a pile of dirty dishes in the kitchen sink, but the drain is clean of any food residue. In the bathroom Kurt finds, there’s a few suspicious hairs on the wall, but the shower is free from soap scum and there’s a plethora of cleaning products under the sink.   
“You must be Kurt, Mercedes friend,” Sam greets him when he catches sight of him the hallway. “It’s nice to meet you. Well, you know what I mean. While I’m wearing real pants and not trying to sneak out.”  
“It’s nice to meet you, too,” Kurt offers, scanning over Sam’s outfit quickly, taking inventory of the khaki shorts and Captain America tank top. “Do you know where Mercedes is?”  
“Oh. Um,” he holds up two drinks sheepishly. “Up on the roof? I was just headed to meet here up there. Do you want me to send her to find you?”  
Kurt appreciates the offer, but he can tell that Sam would prefer some time with Mercedes. And given how much time Mercedes had spent primping, Kurt knows she’d be annoyed in Kurt dragged her back home this soon.  
“No, that’s okay.”  
“Cool,” Sam grins. “Drinks are in the kitchen. If you’re not into beer, there’s some hard stuff in the pantry.”  
“Thanks.”  
The kitchen is surprising empty when Kurt walks in. A crowd of cheers erupts from the porch, and Kurt wryly thinks that everyone must be enthralled by the world’s most exciting round of beer pong. There’s a keg sitting in a kiddie pool of ice, and Kurt passes by it with a wrinkle of his nose.   
Surely enough, the pantry is stocked with plenty of liquor and Kurt snags a red cup to pour himself a drink.   
“Mmm, what do we have here?” comes the taunt from behind him. Kurt startles, spilling tequila onto the floor in his rush to turn around. “I haven’t seen you around here before. I’m Blaine.”  
Kurt swallows, thinking to himself that Blaine seems more country club than frat house with his gently styled hair. He inventories his outfit: snugly fitted khaki shorts, cuffed right above the knee, navy blue button down work unbuttoned over a white v-neck that skims over his abs, and Sperry Topsiders. “Um-“ Kurt starts, caught of guard by the smirk on Blaine’s face.   
“What’s your name?” he asks, stepping in towards Kurt.  
“Kurt. I’m thinking about pledging.” He hates that he can hear the waver in his voice.  
Blaine hums, reaching out and wrapping his fingers over Kurt’s around his cup. “Tequila sunrise,” he says, taking a long drink.  
Kurt swallows hard, can feel his twitch from under Blaine’s. “I improvised,” he says weakly. "There wasn't any grenadine."  
“Well, maybe you should bring some when you move in,” Blaine teases with a wink before taking a step back and leaving the pantry completely.  
For a moment, Kurt stands there, trying to steady his breath. When that proves difficult, he takes a generous drink straight from the bottle.   
Later that night, when Mercedes and Sam finally rejoin the party, Kurt pretends not to notice her rumpled shirt and the blossoming hickey on Sam’s neck.  
“So,” Mercedes says giggling as she stumbles over a crack in the sidewalk. “Did you like it? “  
“I’m not sure like is the right word,” Kurt mumbles, taking her arm to help steady her.   
“It wasn’t too bad, right? The guys are nice enough.”  
“No, they were all nice. I think it’ll work,” Kurt tells her. He doesn’t mention the pantry, though, nor does he ask if Sam had ever mentioned a Blaine.  
 


End file.
